Table for One.



Over green tea and sushi, he was steady on my mind.

I even order tiramisu -just to pass the fucking time.

I contemplate the glorious date that I would finally make him mine.

But I know he’s busy in New York- on his paper-chasing grind.

I continue sipping my tea- I hear extraneous table chatter.

Thinking how loose Americans can be-  control of a geriatric bladder.

I take another sip of tea- dismayed by the empty seat.

Imagining how it would be, if he were sitting across from me.

I’d probably be smiling- admiring his lips.

We’d share the dragon roll & discuss exotic cuisine tips.

The purity of his smile - to me is better than the food

Such a precense is enough to elevate my somber mood.

I reflect back on that day- just about two weeks ago-

A hot and early Sunday evening. Looking hot from head to toe.

Just a chance happening- a moment suspended in time.

When we crossed West 4th street- secretly I hoped he’d drop a line.

There was something in his eyes- pure as piano chimes-

Played by an 8 year-old- like a recital at Christmas time.

I take another sip of tea. Take a survey of what they see-

My crazy hair; an empty chair

The waiter is probably thinking

‘Why is she the only one sitting there?’

But I don’t care. Is what it is. Yes, I’m alone up in this bitch.

With more than hunger for tuna rolls-  a gaping gap within my soul-

I want to say his name with passion. I want him to make my knees shake.

I want to put this love on him like a seismic earthquake.

Want to hear his voice, daily. Love him hard. Love him heavy.

A lost feeling for four years. Ready to put aside old fears.

After just a couple conversations, the connection sparked elation.

He has my focused concentration- I even canceled another date.

Just the sound of his voice takes my mind to our potential fate.

And Father time will make me wait.

For our eyes never foresee. It could be a fraudulent feeling,

Like the nigga I wrote about last week.

Another pour of the green tea.

An elderly man is staring at me.

I just wonder if he wonders all of the same things about me.

Another glance at the empty chair. Again, I imagine the Prince was there.

And then a deep inhale of air

I request the check, adjust my neck,

 I peace up out of there.

Driving home- enjoying the breeze. Biscayne wind blowing the palm trees.

I blast Drake just to escape, the mental blank and space within.

I try my best not to sin- I thank the Lord for letting me breathe.

Almost home.

All alone.

Wondering what He has in store for

We.